One Minute
by Twizardck
Summary: A Katniss and Peeta oneshot the night before before the 75th annual Hunger Games. It's fluffy and full of my own Team Peeta luff, but don't judge it on that.


**I do not own "The Hunger Games" in any way!**

**One Minute**

The stars here were so familiar. They were the same stars that I had looked upon exactly a year ago, when I was in the same position, with the same fears. There was the same breeze and the same smells and the same lights winking down below. It was exactly the same.

It was unbelievably different.

Last year I had been innocent and oblivious and full of hopes and dreams and light. I had known what was coming but not nearly enough. I had just said something shocking and heart wrenching in front of everyone in the country.

This year I had seen things I could never forget. I was scared and wiser and broken, full of angst and grief and darkness. I knew exactly what was coming and what I would probably see. I had just said something even more shocking and heart wrenching in front of everyone in the country.

And I refused to take it back.

So, as I stared up at the stars and the lights, as I felt the breeze, I waited, knowing what would happen next.

I wasn't disappointed.

"You have one minute to explain yourself."

I turned towards the voice, quirking up my lips in a smile as she came towards me. Her hair was in her usual braid, and she was looking more beautiful than ever. I loved her. It crushed me sickeningly, overwhelming my heart and mind. And though she would hug me, kiss me, whisper my name in front of the camera, when we were alone she was different.

She didn't love me the same way.

Or at least, she didn't think so. But I couldn't help but hope that she was wrong. I couldn't help but hope that she truly did love me. For every moment that I realized how much she truly meant to me and that she didn't return the feeling made me feel as if I was drowning in unused affection.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked, privately thinking that I wouldn't mind if she was. I was helping both of us.

I watched as she paused, pursing her lips in her thoughtful way. "No. No, I guess not." There was a cute little crease on her forehead where her skin was bunching up in her contemplation. "But that doesn't change anything. Fifty seconds."

"I did it to protect you."

"Yeah? And what happens if I come out of this alive and everyone is waiting for things to actually happen and they find out that it was all a lie?"

I chuckled softly. "The physical stress of the games. _When_ you come out alive, just remember to cry and make it look all convincing."

She looked stricken. "No… no. If anyone should come out of this it is you. You could do so much more for everyone than I could. You could help change this world. For the better."

"I'm not you," I whispered, walking towards her, bridging the gap between us. "And no matter what you think, the people of this country would be lost without you. You are the mockingjay. I'm just Peeta Mallark. The other winner."

"And according to everyone who watches the games, which is everyone, you're my husband," she said softly.

I breathed in the words, letting the way she said them twine around my ears and into my heart and mind. "But I'm not. Katniss, you don't love me. Don't pretend you do. We aren't married, and you know that despite what they think. I know that. You know that I just said that to drum up public sympathy. Like I did last year. That kept us both alive. This will keep you alive this time."

She blinked, as if surprised at the words I was saying. "We are both going to come out of this."

Shaking my head, I turned away. "They won't let that happen twice. You need to survive. You need to survive for me."

I was so engrossed in what I was saying that I didn't realize she was approaching me again until she had her arms around my waist and her head against my chest. Something hot and wet ran down my shirt. I looked down to see her crying.

"Don't cry. We knew last year that one of us would die, at least. Why has that all changed now?"

She looked up at me, eyes searching my face. "You're wrong, you know," she said, almost mouthing. "You are wrong."

"How am I wrong?" I went over what we had said in my mind, trying to piece everything together.

There was a visible shake that went down her body and I instinctively put my arms around her to provide extra heat. I thought back to what I had said earlier that night. My own voice echoed through my mind. _"We're already married. To us, we're more married than any piece of paper or big party. Maybe I'd think that too. If it weren't for the baby."_ I lowered my head and breathed into Katniss's hair. There had been no wedding, not even the District 12 ritual that I had explained. And there was no baby. And there would never be, because I was going to die.

Katniss released herself from my grip and stepped back so she could look me full in the face. "You're wrong. You're wrong because I do love you."

She rose onto her tiptoes and kissed me lightly on the cheek. Then she left.

I watched her go without a word. Then I turned back around and looked up at the stars again. Maybe she did love me. But not the way I loved her. She hadn't kissed me like she did for the cameras. She hadn't planted her lips against mine and poured her heart and soul into our connection. She hadn't pushed her fingers into my hair and pulled my head closer.

The place on my cheek where her lips had been burned. It burned with electric energy. A real kiss. But not the one I wanted.

Last year in the Hunger Games she had kept me alive. She had nursed me back to help when I had blood poisoning; she had almost poisoned herself along with me so we wouldn't have to kill each other. She had sat by my sickbed and kissed me. I knew that she did care for me.

But her promise to marry me had all been so we could both survive. The romantic kisses we shared were all to play up the camera. The way she had treated me not like she would a friend, but like a lover during the games had not been what was in her heart, but so the people of the Capital would feel for us and send us generous money to help.

What she truly felt was that I was a good friend. I had given her bread a long time ago. I had watched her ever since then, hoping that she would notice me. But I wasn't the boy she paddled after with stars in her eyes.

To her I was like a brother.

To me she was everything.

Last year I had been young and naïve and stupid. This year I was wiser. I would hold firm to what I had promised myself. I would do everything to make sure that she survived, no matter the consequence to me.

"Zero seconds left. You're out of time, loverboy," I whispered to myself.

And with that I turned around and walked off the roof, ready to comfort Katniss through any nightmares she might have tonight.


End file.
